


New Year’s Eve

by Remus_Lupins_Chocolate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little anyway, Alcohol, Coming Out, Draco has been smitten for years, Happy Ending, Like literally years, M/M, New Year's Eve, Post Wizarding War, because I am literally unable to give things sad endings, mention of other characters, there is angst tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22366723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remus_Lupins_Chocolate/pseuds/Remus_Lupins_Chocolate
Summary: He wasn’t sure who’s bedroom it was that he’d ended up in, and, by the time he’d collapsed into the bed, he didn’t particularly care . Vaguely, he picked up on the familiar scent the duvet he was sat on held, though his mind was much to distracted to care about who’s bed he was lying on. Draco‘s eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table and allowed mild surprise to hit him when he realised it was a few minutes past twelve.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 137





	New Year’s Eve

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on my tumblr (remus-lupins-chocolate)

On New Year’s Eve Draco sat alone nursing a bottle of firewhisky which was almost half empty. His friends were in other rooms dancing around to The Weird Sisters. Ten minutes earlier he had been talking to Pansy by Harry’s bookshelf, fingers that weren’t holding the stem of his wine glass absent mindedly strolling over the spines of books. He’d muttered something to her about getting another drink before stumbling into the kitchen. Somewhere between grabbing a drink and taking the cap off he decided that the living room wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be, that he wanted a second away from the noise of the party before the countdown to the next year.

He wasn’t sure who’s bedroom it was that he’d ended up in, and, by the time he’d collapsed into the bed, he didn’t particularly care . Vaguely, he picked up on the familiar scent the duvet he was sat on held, though his mind was much to distracted to care about who’s bed he was lying on. Draco‘s eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table and allowed mild surprise to hit him when he realised it was a few minutes past twelve.

Of course, that shock was immediately replaced by a mix of regret and longing. Before he’d left the room he had been telling Pansy about his plan to kiss stupid Harry Potter at midnight. A small part of him wished he’d actually gone through with it. The rest of him — the parts of him that usually managed to be the epitome of logic — were screaming every reason it was better off this way. Draco would lose a friendship he’d spent every day since his seventh year, after the war, trying to maintain. Besides, even if Harry has kissed him back there was no guarantee that they would last, and he didn’t know if he could manage a breakup with Harry Potter. People would immediately assume he, the ex-deatheater, had done something to hurt their beloved boy who lived.

He’d had the image in his head every time he’d even thought of asking Harry out. The image of him being unable to leave his house in fear of being attacked, in fear of reporters from The Daily Prophet, in fear of wizards and witches throwing him even more dirty looks that they already did. The image of no longer having a friend like Harry and losing Hermione and Ginny and even Luna because he and Harry were no longer on speaking terms. The image of him losing the job at the ministry he’d worked to hard to get. The image of every possible bad outcome haunting him and telling him his life could turn to shit the second the relationship did.

He knew it was best that he hadn’t carried it out. Draco could continue pining until he found someone else to fall in love with. It could be years until that happened but at least he and Harry would still be friends. Just friends and nothing more. The thought made Draco feel ill— but then again that could very easily have actually been the fault of the immense amount of alcohol he’d had in the past four hours .

He took another swig of the Firewhikey and rested his head back against the headboard, looking at the ceiling. The room was practically pitch black as he’d never bothered to turn the lights on, but Draco’s eyes had adjusted since entering and now he could make out the the shapes of furniture and see the paint above him peeling slightly.

New Year’s Eve and no one was missing him. No one had looked for him. “Fucking happy new year.” He muttered, allowing his eyes to fall shut and pulling his legs to his chest defensively. Without much thought he dropped his head to his knees, allowing his bottle to hang loosely from his hand.

Draco had barely been sat like that for a minute when the door opened. His eyes immediately shot open and he looked to the door, where a dark outline stood, framed by the yellow light of the hall. It took until the man walked past the door frame, shutting it behind him for Draco to see it was Harry. The sudden light that had flooded the room threw him off but once the room was plunged back into darkness he saw who had disrupted him. Draco put his head back on his knees as he felt his hands begin to shake and eyes begin to fill.

“Hi.” Harry said, sitting beside Draco. He couldn’t see it happening but he felt the bad beside him dip. “Was looking for you.”

“You found me.” Draco muttered weakly, his voice shaking from the tears that were beginning to fall.

“You okay?” His bright eyes were burning holes into the side of the Draco’s head. If only Harry wouldn’t look at him. He’d be able to lie. To say he was fine and tell Harry not to worry.

But he couldn’t lie. Not when the guy he’d been in love with since he was eighteen was asking if he was okay with a voice that made it so obvious that he knew he wasn’t. He couldn’t say yes with a smile and send Harry spiralling by not telling the truth.

So Draco sat up. He put his head back on the headboard, shaking his head all the while. He let out a sound between a cough and a laugh as another tear rolled down his cheek. “No.” He muttered, bringing the Firewhiskey bottle to his mouth and taking a sip, he furrowed his brows at the burning sensation it left in its wake. He coughed a little, realising he’d taken to big of a sip and smiling bitterly. Fuck, he was going to feel like the embodiment of shit in the morning.

“How much have you had to drink?” Harry said, taking the bottle from Draco and looking to see the contense was still half full.

“Too fucking much.” Draco answered, dragging his hands through his hair. He didn’t even notice the way Harry raised his eyebrows at the swear. When he was drunk his filter generally only cut out slurs, just as he always did. “But that’s old news. You already know I drink when I’m trying to forget something. Kind of backfired this time because it’s all I can think about.” Draco went back to hanging his head down as to not see Harry and give his mind more fuel for his endless thoughts of a relationship between them destroying his life.

“Old news but still not good news, Draco, mate.” Harry sighed, taking a swig from the bottle, shuddering at the taste. He never got how people could drink it. “Good news would be that you’re happy.” He passed the bottle back over to Draco, who took it in one of his hands.

“Happiness is superficial, Potter. I’ve told you this countless times.” He groaned, lifting his head to for another sip of the drink.

Harry laughed with a shake of his head, disbelief evident on his face yet again. “And I’ve told you countless times that it isn’t. Temporary? Sure. Superficial? Just because it doesn’t last doesn’t mean it wasn’t there at all.” He took Draco’s bottle again.

“You can make everyone happy. You can give them everything they need to be happy, but still that can be destroyed by one thing. Things can be ripped from you in a moment with a fire, or a death. Merlin knows what else. I’m practically no different when it comes to being materialistic than you, but I know that things can be taken away as easily as they’re given because I’ve already had everything I loved taken from me over night and I’m never going to be ready to do that again.” Draco muttered slowly, resting his head back on the headboard and feeling another wave of tears spread through his body.

“Don’t say that.” Harry’s voice cracked as he spoke.

“Don’t say wha-“

“Don’t say that I don’t know how it feels to have things taken from me. Hi, I’m Harry Potter. The boy who’s parents were killed when he was a baby, who never had the chance for a proper childhood, who multiple people have been killed for, who’s got no proper family, who’s had fuck ton of shit to deal with for his entire life. Nice to meet you. Don’t you _dare_ say that I don’t understand, Draco Malfoy. I know life’s a bitch and takes what it wants without a care but that doesn’t give you the right to wallow in self pity and think no one else has gone through similar thing to those you have.” Harry was breathing heavily in attempt to detain the tears getting ready to fall from his eyes.

Draco was looking at him with guilt soaring through him at a violent speed. He was the boy who lived and when Draco had first befriended him he’d expected Harry to wear his emotions on his sleeves. That was far from how Harry really was. If there were people around he wouldn’t cry, Ron and Hermione could barely think of any times they’d seen him cry and they’d been his best friends since they were in their first year. But, fuck, Harry was crying. Of course, he knew Harry cried. He’d seen Harry cry, but never like this.

He’d seen Harry cry after he broke up with Ginny. He felt awful and couldn’t deal with the fact that he’d led her on for so long before he ended it. Ginny’d cried and cried and cried and he’d just held her telling her he was sorry and things would be okay and he did love her just now how she wanted him to. He arrived at Draco’s at three in the morning, intoxicated and with tears running down his face. Draco had grumpily answered the door but lost this demeanour the second he’d seen the dishevelled state Harry was in. That night they sat in the living room for hours while the boy who lived poured out his guts to the only person he felt he could.

He’d seen Harry cry that October on the anniversary of his parents death, when he’d asked if Draco would go with him too. They’d stood in the graveyard with Hermione and Ron saying nothing. The three of them knew Harry was crying, even though he wasn’t making a sound. Hermione had placed roses on the grave while muttering something and wearing a sad smile, which only made Harry cry more. Silent tears continued rolling down his face until he chocked out a strangled sob into his hand. His friends all moved in to give him a hug at the same time so that he was wrapped in their comfort.

Now only a few months later he was watching Harry fall apart again and knowing it was his fault. Harry sat there sobbing with a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand and a drunk Draco sat next to him horrified with what he had done. This by far felt the worst to see.

“I’m sorry.” Draco muttered, when Harry’s tears slowed down and he was breathing more evenly again.

Harry shook his head tiredly. “Thanks, but you don’t have to be, you’re drunk. Can’t think straight right now.”

“Never can.” He joked, hands still over his eyes. Then he realised what he’d said and stopped breathing. He could hear Harry had done the same and was processing what Draco had said. “Shit.” Was the next thing he said when Harry breathed in again, obviously about to ask a question. “Shit. Did I just say that? Did I actually— oh fucking shit. Sorry, Harry. Sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to say that— I didn’t—“

Draco ran his fingers through his hair now hyperventilating because fuck he didn’t think he’d actually be coming out to Harry tonight. Sure, he’d told Pansy (and himself, really) that h was going to kiss Harry at midnight but once midnight had passed the reality of what could happen had really hit him and, Merlin, was he glad he hadn’t followed it through. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to do it. He hadn’t wanted to come out to him while he was in love with the man, but now he had— and while he was drunk too so he could say more than he wanted to. Well, whatever happened next was sure to be ten times worse than what just had.

Harry continued to stare at his bedsheets ready to begin a sentence probably asking Draco someghing he was uncomfortable with asking— “it’s fine, Draco.”

“No, it’s not. I just made things weird and you’re probably really uncomfortable—“

“I’m gay.”Harry said, cutting his friend off before he could begin panicking more than he already was.

There was a short silence. “What?” Draco said, thinking that by this point he must have passed out from the drinks and his mind was constructing things that would never be true.

“I’m gay.” This time the words were heavy, as though Harry himself hadn’t felt the weight of them before and now he did. And now that he did it was pushing down on his chest and sending all air out of his lungs. Draco had just accidentally told him but it was probable he’d told someone else, maybe Pansy seeing as she was always hanging around him and telling him things she wouldn’t even whisper to Harry. With Harry it was different. He hadn’t even told Ginny she came out to him as bi and told him about Luna. No one fucking knew— well, actually, now Draco did and in honesty Harry didn’t feel all to brilliant about that at all. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

Draco nodded slowly. “Well done.” He said quietly, then in attempt to put some conviction behind his words he put his hand on the duvet between them, offering it up for Harry to take. They’d held hands before. Watching a movie that was sad. While Ginny gave a speech at Hermione and Ron’s wedding. When Draco received the news that his mother had been released from st mungos after weeks of treatment. Despite each of these and every other time like them being either meaningless or full of comfort, this time felt like so much more. That was, if Harry decided to hold his hand.

He did.

“I didn’t even tell Ginny.” Harry muttered, thankful for Draco soothing his thumb over the back of his hand because it had instantly made him a hundred times calmer. “When I broke up with her I just told her things had changed— that after the war I didn’t feel in the same way I had but… it had been a year since I’d finished school, two since the war so it probably made her feel worse when I said it was that. Then when she told me about Luna and I just— I had the opportunity to tell her and I didn’t.”

“You weren’t ready.”

“It wasn’t _fair_.”

“Why do you have to be so kind?” Draco laughed to himself and looked over at the man beside him. “For once think about what’s good for you not for everyone around you.”

“Can’t.” Harry said in a choked voice. “Never will be able to because of who I am. If I stop helping people I’ll let everyone down.”

“You’ll never let me down. Even if you became the biggest dick to walk the planet I think I’d still—“ With that he cut himself off because he knew what he’d been about to say. Suddenly, he felt a lot more sober. “I’d still want to be your friend.” From beside him Harry looked over, eyeing Draco oddly. Fuck, he was screwed. That had been the final time he’d accidentally almost tell Harry something he didn’t want to know because he’d completely cut Draco out of his life.

“Friend.” Harry echoed, looking like the work left a bitter taste in his mouth. The hand in Draco’s stiffened a little causing him to stop stoking his thumb over the skin on the back of his hand. There was a silence that seemed to stretch years but probably lasted three minutes, before Harry took a deep breath, holding it for a second to determined which words to use for his next question. “Have you told… who else knows? That you’re… Y’know. Gay.”

Draco laughed weakly. “God, Okay. Mum knows, Pansy, Luna— she was the first person I told, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Blaise, Dean and Seamus, Most of the Weasleys actually… yeah, I think that’s about it.”

“Everyone but me.”

Shit. The words made Draco wince. Of course telling Harry that would upset him. The majority of the people they were actually friends with knew but Draco hadn’t told Harry. He’d think he hated him. He’d think— well. There was no need to force himself down this rabbit hole again he’d already fallen in about five times since he’d entered the room. “Yeah.” The words came out in a sigh of defeat. If Draco wanted not to seem like a total wanker he’d have to tell him the truth. “Yeah, everyone but you.”

“Why?” There was no anger or hurt in Harry’s voice. It broke at the end which made him think he was anxious, perhaps hiding curiosity but no anger at Draco for not telling him. Anger would be easier to deal with. Having Harry scream at him would make this conversation so much easier because then he could convert every feeling he had into rage. He’d regret it tomorrow, or maybe even immediately after, but it would still feel easier in the moment.

“You’ll hate me.”

“I never could”

“You did.” Draco pointed out. The hand in his stiffened again for a moment but Harry pushed away whatever made him tense and squeezed Draco’s hand tightly for a second.

“I did. Never could again. I know you too well. Know how kind you are. You’re too good to hate.”

“Fine.” He swallowed, trying to ignore the beautiful green eyes searching the side of his face for some sort of clue, making it impossible to even think about saying what he was going to. Maybe if he— nope, looking over hadn’t helped at all now their faces were inches apart. Draco bit his lip, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s. “I like you.” The words came out and he winced, not quite what he’d meant to say.

The air thickened, weighing down on both of them so that it seemed like breathing was almost an impossible feat. Almost impossible, as Harry occasionally took in a deep breath as if he was about to say something, then seemed to back out of it. When he eventually decided on what to say it was only, “should we talk about this now or when you’ll definitely remember it?”

“Will I want to remember it?”

“I want you to.” Harry muttered, bringing his other hand to where his and Draco’s were intertwined so he could hold him with both hands.

“The past few minutes have been rather sobering. Forgive me for not wanting to endure this another time when we’re already so far into it right now.” Draco’s said, voice quiet and wavering despite his obvious attempt to appear indifferent. If there was one thing Harry never failed to notice it was when Draco tried to lie to him.

Without much thought Harry found himself nodding his head anyway. The darkness of his bedroom had a strange quality, some wierd ability to make consequences seem utterly nonexistent. “How long for?”

In the dark, Harry just managed to see Draco bite his lip, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and pressed down hard, probably hard enough to draw blood. Harry refrained from lifting one of his hands to Draco’s face to smooth over his lips gently in attempt to calm him.

“I don’t know. Since school. After the war. A while after we became friends. That two week break in April that you stayed at the castle so I wouldn’t be alone. I only really stopped being in denial after you ended it with Ginny. I thought— I don’t know— maybe I thought I had a chance. Still took another five years for you to find out.” Draco’s eyes had fallen shut, and the second he finished speaking his lip was back between his teeth. It was impossible to tell if this was from nerves or because he didn’t want to say too much.

“Seven years.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even realised. He hadn’t really meant to speak, thought perhaps he could just pretend to have passed out but what a dick move that would have been. “You must have been with other people, though? Sorry that wasn’t the best thing to ask. It’s fine if you haven’t.” He cut himself off before he dug himself into a hole. It would be easier to just allow Draco to answer.

“I have. Not for a few years mind, Potter.” Harry smiled at the nickname despite the subject it was attached to. Even though once it would be followed by an insult or jibing remark, now it was practically a term of endearment. It left him glowing. “I stopped trying when Pansy pointed out that every guy I become remotely interested in had an uncanny likeness to you. Assumed I’d just… I don’t know what I thought would happen. Whatever it was, it hasn’t.”

Harry felt a dull ache within him, spreading from his chest through his whole being. He had to say something, had to tell him, but, Merlin, the idea of saying it out loud…. he could feel his heart in his throat at the mere thought of it. Still….. if only he could just say something. “I’m in love too.”

A small wimper escaped Draco that he tried to hide but even the shaking breath it became made the pain Draco was in violently obvious.

“Tried to get over the guy in the same way you have. Muggle bars and clubs of course, not well known, and I usually find away to not look like Harry Potter anyway. Charm my hair a different colour, transfigure my glasses frame, plait my hair rather than have the messy bun I usually do. Now I think about it, all the guys tend to have the same blonde hair grey or blue eyes. Brilliant dress sense. Wine rather than a beer. Remind me of the guy I’m in love with.” Harry felt Draco’s eyes bore into the side of his head when he realised what was being said. When Harry’s eyes finally stopped swimming he looked up at Draco, the way his eyes were wide and shining with tears that were yet to fall, though hundreds clearly already had in the past however long he’d been in this room.

Draco’s mouth was threatening to break into a grin, but it didn’t. Instead he shook his head and bowed it, laughing quietly in disbelief. When he looked back up a smile had made its way onto his face, obviously against his better judgement from the way he was biting the inside of his cheek. “I _despise_ you, Potter.” He breathed, noticing how close they were, faces only a few inches apart. Harry was still cradling Draco’s hand in both of his and a mischievous smile had filled his face, apparent from his chin to his cheeks to his eyes to his hairline.

“Y’know, I have reason to believe otherwise.” Somehow he brought them closer together without even moving. Draco blinked and the inches between them became around a centimetre and a half.

Next time the blonde spoke he sounded breathless and his eyes were glued to Harry’s lips. “And what are those?” His voice was barely audible over the ruckus still going on outside the sanctuary of Harry’s bedroom.

“Well.” Harry settles back a bit, smiling as Draco’s brow creased at the sudden distance, trying to refrain from following him away. Subtly, Harry managed to move his fingers to rest over the pulse point on Draco’s wrist. “I’m assuming your heart doesn’t usually beat this fast.”

Draco rolled his eyes, muttering about stupid muggle theories, looking away from Harry to the line of light below the door frame, seeing the shadow of someone linger outside the door for a moment before moving on. Hopefully it would be Pansy, not one of Harry’s Gryffindor friends who weren’t so sure about him no matter what level of vulnerability he’d shown. Hermione was fine but he thought perhaps Ron would kick off, just as Seamus most definitely would. The last time Seamus had walked in a pair of curtains had burnt down. Draco quickly glanced at the curtains drawn shut at Harry’s window. They looked to be rather expensive.

“There’s also that,” Harry began, leaving his sentence unfinished as, in one smooth motion, he managed to kick Draco’s legs to be flatter on the bed and throw one of his legs over both of Draco’s so he was sat on his lap, facing him. Draco felt his face heat up and he looked forward at Harry for a split second before dropping his head to rest in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I knew it. You went bright red.” Harry rested his arms over Draco’s shoulders, hands meeting to play with the hair that fell to the top of his spine.

“How can you even see? It’s dark.” Draco groaned.

“I can’t see I was guessing. You just told me I was right.”

Draco groaned at this, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pulling him closer to him. “You’re horrible.”

“You love me.”

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t horrible.”

“Hey. Look at me a sec.” Harry said suddenly, changing the subject and continueing to lightly sooth his fingers over the back of Draco’s neck. Draco looked up at him, lip drawn between his teeth lightly, worry coated in every part of his face, the crease between his eyebrows, his eyes, his everything. Harry brought his hands to cup Draco’s face, gently brushing his thumb over Draco’s bottom lip, smiling at the little gasp and way his mouth opened. Oh Merlin, how Harry wanted to kiss him. Then it struck him that now he probably could. His hands moved to back hold Draco’s hair again and Harry pressed their foreheads together.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry breathed the words against Draco’s lips, feeling almost as intimate as the next second when their lips touched. They both remained their, neither being quite sure that what was happening was real, then they realised it was, and fell into it. Harry’s tongue touched Draco’s bottom lip and he opened his mouth, deepening it, slowly becoming more immersed.

Draco’s hands held the back of Harry’s shirt tightly, fingers straining against the fabric as one of Harry’s hands grabbed Draco’s tie. He wrapped it around his hand, pulling the other man impossibly closer to him, hearing a shocked noise in the back of Draco’s throat and feeling it in his own mouth. Draco moved his wand hand from Harry’s back, trailing it up his chest and over his shoulder, taking purchase in Harry’s long hair that tonight had been tied half up, half down. The sigh Harry let out at this completely interrupted them, causing them to both lean back a little to catch their breath. That didn’t stop each exhale from blowing over the others lips. The hand Draco had in Harry’s hand continued to brush through it while they just breathed the same air, relishing in the closeness.

The moment was ended and sent thousands of miles in another direction when the bedroom door flew open, Harry rolled away from Draco the second he headed the door handle move and just managed to look microscopically inconspicuous when Pansy flicked the light on, looking at them blankly, not sober enough to realise she’d just caught them doing something.

“I’ve been looking for you guys for _an hour_.” Her words were slurred and she had a face that mimicked Mrs Weasleys, though the champagne glass in her hand that was dangerously full ruined the affect. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Come and join the rest of us in celebrating another year of being alive, boys.” She left before she’d even properly seen the way the two men were out of breath and Draco’s mussed up hair. Draco brought his hands behind his head to pull some of his just blonde hair into a ponytail in attempt to look tidy and turned to Harry. The latter layed back on his pillows, groaning at Pansy’s timing and at knowing failing to go to where everyone else was would result in her coming back for them.

Harry’s position on the bed, one arm thrown over his face meant he didn’t see Draco leaning over him until he felt legs settle either side of his hips and opened his eyes widely. “Hey.” Draco muttered, lips brushing against Harry’s as he spoke. “Do you think we can just stay here or will she come back in five minutes if we don’t show up?”

Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s, looping his fingers through his belt loops gently, but not so gently that Draco could move easily. “No offence, Draco.” Harry’s whispered, before opening his eyes and managing to roll them over. “But you don’t know your best friend at all. You think we could get five minutes?” Harry rested their foreheads together. “We barely have three.”

The next second Harry was on his feet, grabbing Draco by the hand and pulling him down the hall to the kitchen. They stood behind the counter, from which they could see into the adjoined living room. There, Ron stood talking to Hermione, Pansy in the corner with Blaise, muttering and smiling with wet eyes, oblivious to the box of tissues hanging loosely from her friends hand even as he grabbed a tissue and passed it to her. The only people in the half of the room that was the kitchen besides them were Dean and Seamus, who were already rather preoccupied… Harry rolled his eyes at them, glancing at Draco for a second only to make eye contact. He smiled briefly before, turning back to the rest of the party. In the few seconds they hadn’t been looking, Blaise had pulled Pansy into a tight hug, stroking her hair and shaking his head in annoyance as she sobbed loudly into his shoulder. She never failed to get herself so drunk she couldn’t reason with her emotions.

Harry looked between him and Draco to where their hands were almost brushing. Gently, almost subconsciously, he knocked them together. When Draco looked at him, he only shrugged. Really, he hadn’t known what he’d wanted. They were in a room full of their friends… if they were to kiss or even just dare to stand an inch closer together everyone would know. Harry’s eyes had dropped to the marble counter, he was blissfully unaware of the way Draco was surveying him carefully. After a moments thought, he brushed their hands together, more confidently than Harry had, then he intertwined their fingers, the kitchen counter obscuring the view.

No one could see, but it was there. Harry squeezed Draco’s hand in thanks, a shy smile invading his face as Draco returned it. Pansy was still crying in the corner, Ginny was draped over Luna who was talking to Charlie animatedly about something he seemed very curious about. George was in the corner with the old Gryffindor quidditch team and Hermione and Ron stood in the corner, leaning against each other watching the world go by. They both had secretive smiles on their faces that Harry guessed was probably mirrored in his own. Hermione was twirling her wedding and engagement rings around her finger, smiling sloftly as Ron’s hand that had previously been resting on her side moved to brush over her lower stomach, muttering something to her which made her smile brighter than the sun, then turn to give him a brief kiss. Then she turned back to watch their friends and family talk amongst each other.

Harry stepped closer to Draco, letting go of his hand and leaning into his side. To adapt to the new position Draco moved his arm to rest uncertainly over Harry’s shoulder. Harry grabbed his hand, resting their hands on his shoulder and looking up at him tiredly. “Always a Gryffindor.” Draco teased, turning his head and pressing a brief kiss against his temple. Harry hummed in agreement, turning to the side and looking up so their lips were almost touching. The smile already playing Draco’s lips grew as he ducked his head a little to press their lips together gently.

Across the room Hermione and Ron smiled at the two, exchanging the look they always did when something bound to happen finally did.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this like six months ago then found it in November and decided to finish it for New Year’s Day, which I did. I also edited a lot and didn’t first post it in three in the morning when I couldn’t be bothered to edit. There are probably spelling mistakes or grammatical errors at times though so I’m sorry.


End file.
